Again, thanks to NY Gal and Ragni and the new reviewer, MaryKat. This one is specially for you three.
Rest of you too, thanks for reading and (not) reviewing!

Enjoy!

Chapter 76

Potter looked sombre. I could care less right now. Or maybe I couldn't care less. It had to be about Frank.

"Sit down Hawkeye. And tell me exactly what happened." His demeanor changed slightly after my earlier outburst. I had never seen him under pressure and did not want to find out now of all times how he dealt with it.

I did as was told in as few words as possible right from triage to my last squabble with Frank. In the mean time, a tray full of breakfast appeared in front of me.

"Tuck in!" He ordered me as he seemed to delve into his thinking mode again.

"Why? He looked at me quizzically.

"What does he say?" I knew Frank had cooked up another story but what?

"He says you did not order chest X-rays in triage, did not check the patient in pre-op and when he developed tamponade, you aspirated blood quick which fixed the problem but you forced Burns into opening this kid because you were guilty about forgetting the chest X-rays. He refused because he knew that the best bet was to approach it conservatively since the boy had responded to needle aspiration. You opened him against direct orders both from me and him, who was also the ranking surgeon and surgeon of record. Your tinkering led to current situation where he may die. And there is also threat of physical harm to which he holds me witness."

"This is bullshit, Colonel and you know it. Why are you siding with him?" I barely kept my volume in check as yet another scrap of paper with his update appeared in front of me. He was oozing from wound bed. I closed my eyes and sighed.

"What is it?"

"Nothing good. I have to start him on pressors. Excuse me Colonel!" And with that I left his office.

"Margaret..." I called her name as I saw her taking his blood pressure. I dared not ask her the current reading.

"Pressors? You know they would spike his heart rate further."

"I'm open to suggestions, Margaret." I looked at this young boy who was not going to make it. The reality was finally sinking in.

I'll kill Frank if this kid dies.

"No he won't. And you won't. PIERCE!" I was shaken out of my reverie by Margaret.

"What?"

Had I said that aloud?

"You won't kill Frank because Billy will make it, alright. You go talk to his buddy. He is worried sick."

Maybe Margaret was as deluded as I was. Together, the two of us had pulled some real doozies of stunts when everybody else had given up. We were a great team with a great track record. This one did not look like one of those times.

Are you doubting your capabilities?

I sharply turned to see Margaret fussing over Johnson. She couldn't have said that.

What was his friend's name again? He was awake. I picked up his chart to check for latest update. He had a neutral expression on his face but I could tell he was worried. He was scared to death.

"Hello Peter. First about you, you are doing great. Your wound looks good and so does rest of everything else. Either sometime tonight or early tomorrow morning, you will be allowed to have clear fluids which is either water or very dry martinis, whichever you prefer," his expressions unchanged, I dropped the comic routine, not feeling all that funny myself. "I know, you're worried about Billy. He is very sick but he is strong and we will get him back on his feet in no time.. I'll get him better..."

"You are a liar! You're the one who caused him to get that sick to begin with. You don't give a damn if he makes it. Look at you! You don't even look like a doctor. You think I wasn't listening when Major Burns told you Billy didn't need surgery. He was smiling when I last saw him and now..." Tears trickled down his face as he looked at all the mechanical paraphernalia shrouding his friend now.

"Peter, he had an injury that went..."

"YOU KILLED HIM, YOU SON OF A BITCH! YOU FUCKED UP HIS SURGERY AND NOW I HAVE TO TELL HIS PARENTS THAT HE DIED."

"Cpl. Sanders!" I tried again.

"Leave me alone, Sir!" And with that, this conversation was essentially over.

I just sat there, devoid of any strength to leave.

"Pierce!" I looked up. It was Margaret.

"You are not supposed to leave Billy alone." I told her as I got up from the stool by Peter's side.

"I know. Why don't you go lie down, Hawkeye? I will wake you if anything changes."

I rubbed a hand on my face and rubbed my eyes again before moving towards Johnson and asking her for an update.

"I started pressors. His pressure is holding at ninety systolic but his heart rate is one fifteen now."

"Hold sedation. That will bring his pressure up some. I want him breathing on his own. How is the drain?"

"He is oozing but its manageable. Hawkeye, go rest. You look like hell. I promise I will call you if anything changes."

"I want to see what happens when you stop sedation." I told her firmly before going back to my lair in the corner, feeling shaken and angry.

It was my mistake. I knew something wasn't right about this kid and still I didn't go and check in the pre-op. How could I do that? How could I be so negligent?

I kept receiving quarter hourly updates which were a mere repetition of the previous updates, if they could be called that.

Billy Johnson.

BJ?

Oh My God!

He had same initials...

NO.

He doesn't.

He is William Johnson.

After a lifetime, Billy stirred. I was right next to him. Calmly, I told him about what happened and gave him the tallest order of his life: to fight and get better! He seemed in some pain but was in good spirits, all things considered. Putting him on oxygen mask, I told Margaret I was leaving and Radar would know at all times where I could be found and that I needed half-hourly updates and she was not to leave patient's side and that I would be back soon.

Feeling some life seeping back in my own limbs, I went to outer office which was relatively cold compared to post-op. Radar was not there. I sat on his cot, waiting for him.

When I opened my eyes again, Radar was there. I must have dozed off. He heard me, of course and turned towards me.

"Hawkeye! Major Houlihan said everything was alright. Nothing has changed and not to wake you."

"How long have I been here?" I looked at my watch and cursed, ignoring Radar's weird sentence structure. It was half past ten already, "Why didn't she wake me?" I angrily spoke and got up from his cot. And then I realized I was lying on his cot and had blankets over me. Shaking my head in anger, I started towards post-op when Radar stopped me.

"Hawkeye, you better wash up. Patients will get scared." So now I was being made fun of by Tiny Tim as well.

I decided to look at Billy before doing as I was advised.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" I snarled at Margaret after checking Johnson. Everything checked out fine, considering.

"I tried. You were out. Now stop being a stubborn jackass and get some rest and come back as a human being. And yeah, have something to eat! You look no better than him."

"I'll go, get cleaned up, and then I'm coming back. Tell someone to get me a tray full of mess slop too." With that, I left post-op, not sure what to feel yet. Johnson was still touch n go and I was still guilty of neglect and a shoddy triage.

P.S. Next update might have to wait till middle of the week. I have some rough routine next couple of days. Will appreciate if you leave a sign that you are reading and enjoying it.